Not This Time
by antiidote
Summary: Knocking on the door, he said, was more honorable than simply bursting into her home or appearing in her fireplace. Giving her the privacy she needed, he said, was more upstanding than forcing his company on her when unwanted.
1. Chapter 1 His Pain

**Story Notes:** Rated for (non-graphic, if that changes anything) physical abuse and blush-worthy language. You've been warned.

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing but the plot.

**~ His Pain**

"There's nothing wrong! I just want you to get properly settled down, have the life that you deserve, but you're being a prick about it!"

Malfoy set his cutlery down, eyes narrowed as he studied her face. Smirking, he drawled, "I assure you that I need no help in that department. I manage well enough on my own." A pointed look at the bar across from their booth emphasized his point.

Ginny rolled her eyes at the unfathomably empty expressions of the blondes situated there and jerked her coffee cup to her lips irritably. "That is _not _what you deserve."

Her best mate leaned back, a small frown marring his face. "Oh? And what is it I deserve, pray tell?"

After chewing her chocolate pastry for a few moments, Ginny shrugged, throwing a dirty look at the openly gaping women by the bar, and sighed, "Someone more refined – who doesn't sit idly at bars on Tuesday nights; a good, clean girl to match your equally spotless image."

The blond opposite her snorted, one of his hands reaching for his water. Ginny watched in fascination as he threw back the whole glass, eyes closed, and emitted a derisive snort of her own. "Is that for the audience?"

Malfoy set his empty glass down and glanced at the bar again. His eyes traveled over each woman slowly, and Ginny wondered how any of his conquests could stand the embarrassment, the criticism in those pewter eyes when he did so. Shaking her head, Ginny downed her coffee and waited.

Finally, he turned back to her, eyes dark, and asked, "Spotless?"

Gesticulating futilely before forming her words, she pushed her plate to the center of the minute table and glanced around at the public. Sighing once more, she muttered, "It is. You're more of a whore than any woman I've met, of course, but you're otherwise clean. Marrying one of those brainless bimbos would negate all that you've accomplished. Malfoy, why do you insist on these tarts?"

He sneered then, crossing his arms over his chest loosely. His long legs stretched out, brushing hers absently, and he sneered. "They're simple; I don't have to think, and I certainly don't need much time. It's dreadful, waking in the morning to one of their ghastly faces, Weasley. So I just leave them wherever we happen to shag. Saves me the trouble of getting rid of them the morning after."

Ginny frowned in disgust, glaring into his playful eyes. "That's incredibly shallow of you, Malfoy."

He shrugged casually, masculinity oozing from him. "So are the women I use."

"Use? Honestly? If not for the women, have some respect for yourself! Despite what you may think, commitment is not equivalent to incarceration."

Grinning, he drawled, "You think too lowly of me to be my best mate."

"Thank the heavens I'm not, then."

"Weasley, you wound me. Am I really that much of an arse?"

Ginny leaned across the small booth, taking his chiseled cheeks into her small hands, and beamed. "You're an arse no matter what you do. A simple 'thank you' from you might as well be the death sentence. Do you ever consider how pointless your lifestyle is?"

Malfoy pulled out of her hold and growled, "Maybe that's how I want it. Ever consider that?"

Ginny sat back and dug through her bag. Dropping a few galleons onto the table, she stood and reached for her coat. Malfoy stood with her, slipping the thick wool over her shoulders, and paid the entire bill with his own clutter of money, shoving Ginny's back into her bag.

"I invited you, Malfoy."

"I have more money."

Groaning in defeat, Ginny took her purse from him and started for the door. He held it open as she pulled her gloves on, exiting. Catching his eyes, Ginny smiled. "Breakfast tomorrow?"

"How's The Ivy?"

Ginny looked away, blushing despite the cold. "I – uh – "

"I'm inviting you, Weasley."

"You always pay anyway! I'm sick of being dependent."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "You can jumpstart your independence by quitting that pathetic job of yours. But do let me pay. I'll be feeling guilty otherwise."

Nodding in defeat, Ginny moved to kiss his cheek, but her high heels did not even bring her level with Malfoy's shoulders. He leaned down briefly to comply, and they disapparated their separate ways

* * *

Pinching the bridge of her nose tiredly, Ginny kicked her front door with avid fervor, if for nothing more than to stop the incessant pounding that came from the other side. Silence ensued, and Ginny was just about to _alohomora_ the damn thing when the pounding swiftly resumed. The clock above her fireplace chimed two hours past midnight.

Ripping the door from its frame, Ginny snarled the first words that came to her mouth, "What the fucking hell do you want!?"

As soon as she saw his face, her heart began to ache. Stepping back to let him through, Ginny watched as he fell against the door the moment it closed. He raised a slip of paper to her, and a strong odour of alcohol permeated her senses. Jerking it out of his hands roughly, Ginny lit her wand to read:

_Draco Malfoy_

_Puddlemere United Public Offices_

_Chief Trainer_

_We are very sorry to inform you of your mother's passing last night shortly before nineteen hours. We regret your loss._

_Private Ward Healers_

_St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries_

Suppressing a horrific sob, Ginny tossed the slip onto the floor, wrapping her arms around him. He leaned away from her, breathing heavily, smashed beyond recognition. She led him to the free bedroom, which had promptly turned into Draco's bedroom when she'd realized that no one else ever really spent the night at her flat. Tossing him onto the bed, Ginny pulled his shoes off and hung up his coat. Before she was able to so much as tuck him in, he was deep in the abyss of sleep. He was a rotten drunk, and Ginny decided not to push her luck, closing the door behind her as she left him in peace.

Checking all of the wards before she took herself to bed, Ginny came upon the note she had thrown down earlier. Lifting the parchment to her eyes once more, Ginny wept quietly for the loss, both hers and Malfoy's.

Narcissa had been an extremely beautiful woman, and Ginny had found her extraordinary and grabbing. Lucius and Narcissa had had similarly striking faces, so maybe that explained the indescribable beauty that was Ginny's best friend.

Ginny had always loved him for it – his wonderful, beautiful beauty. Having lived her life as part of a family of infamously red and freckled Weasleys, the break that Draco gave her from that life was a relief.

She supposed there was a selfish and shallow streak to her assertion as well: she didn't have to share. Unlike the numerous robes and supplies and Quidditch posters that had been passed from sibling to sibling, Draco was completely hers. He was beautiful and untainted with use; though not by women.

A bitter smile twisted her lips as the thought entered Ginny's head. He deserved better, he just refused to see it. But she would find him a good, rich, pureblooded woman, and see him off to his happy life. It would have made Narcissa happy.

Rolling up the parchment once more, Ginny set it on the kitchen counter and shuffled to her room. A quick glance in the mirror set Ginny's lips in a rueful twist again. She pushed her dreadfully red hair back and tipped her face thoughtfully. Next to Draco, she could never attract attention. The only reason Jaret was dating her was that he had not yet met Malfoy; Ginny was sure he would change sexualities for the blond, if given the opportunity.

What hurt slightly more than everything else, though, was that she knew how Draco felt, too. If he'd thought she was even remotely attractive, he would have tried to shag her long ago. It wasn't that she needed him to shag her, per se; but it was the thought that counted, was it? He, to her, was more beautiful and meaningful than the world, and she to him, painfully plain.

Suddenly overcome with worry and love, Ginny set about cleaning her small chamber, wondering if Draco would want to organize a proper burial. The mood for sleep had been effectively ruined.

He and his mother had not been close, or even friendly, as far as Ginny knew. The few times he had even mentioned her were when he needed a date to some charity ball or other event at which he knew his mother would attempt to badger him. Ginny smiled as she thought back to the last one they had attended, little over two months ago, to celebrate Draco's twenty-fifth birthday and raise funds for a private Lancaster hospital.

His mother had been quickly approaching them with Pansy and Astoria on her heels, and Ginny had promptly been pulled flush against Draco's body as he practically flew them to the dance floor. The two Slytherins had never stopped trying, Ginny realized, remembering the awful encounters she and Draco had had with the two women in the most unusual of places. How sad, Ginny thought, that Draco tired even of the most beautiful.

Yet, if his mother's death caused him enough pain to go out of his way to get intoxicated in the wee hours of the morning, there had to have been a bond. Ginny pondered the issue as she tried not to think of the unconscious body lying one wall away.

By the time her room was in relative order, the clock had chimed seven times, and Ginny ran to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. In the distance, she heard the shower running, and her muscles tightened, worried that he would shut her out again.

Despite their close friendship, of which they had had five full-running years, there were intermittent glitches in the way Draco treated her: fully ignoring her one day, showering her with gifts the next. The one thing remained constant, however, was that he did not react well to embarrassment and vulnerability, and after his behavior the previous night, Ginny knew he would be uppity that morning.

Transferring the eggs onto two clean plates, Ginny set the table and awaited Draco. Precisely two minutes later, he walked regally into the room, silent and intimidating in his posture. Ginny rolled her eyes subtly, but he looked at her with a frown. "What?"

"Nothing. I made some eggs and sausage – do you want anything else?"

Malfoy's eyes moved over the plate swiftly and he shook his head. "No, it'll be enough. I need to get to work in a bit, anyway." A pause. "Listen, about yest – "

Ginny did not have the heart to go through it, so she interrupted, "Look, you don't have to – "

"I hadn't meant to make a scene. Merlin, I don't now why I even came to your home when I was just so _smashed_ - "

"Malfoy," Ginny started crossly, pouring herself another generous cup of juice. "I've seen you like that more than once before, and last night, you had as good a reason as any. Honestly, it's fine. Don't mention it."

He faltered for a second, seeming to contemplate her words with seriousness, before the frown fell from his face, and he shook his head. Running an errant hand through his soft hair, he stood. "I have an early meeting this morning, so I've got to go. I – "

"_For God's sake_, Malfoy, don't you ever get tired of it?" Ginny determinedly blocked the door and put her hands on her hips. Enough was enough. This was his _mother_.

He glared at her. "Excuse me?"

Her voice level rose with each word she uttered. "I lost Fred nearly ten years ago, and every time I think of him, all I can feel is blind, red pain, and I want to go back ten years into the past and _murder_ whoever it was that blew up that Godforsaken place. I know pain, Malfoy, and I know _pain_." Storming over to him, Ginny pointed a shaking finger up at him, "So don't you even act like I can't understand! It's been ten years for me, and only one night for you, but it doesn't change a thing! Pain is pain, and you cannot escape it just by disregarding my efforts and pretending nothing has happened."

He blinked, the hard expression in his eyes refusing to leave, but he caught her hand silently and lowered it. Finding herself unable to stop, Ginny stepped back as hot tears streaked down her face, and looked away. "Gosh, I'm sorry. Ugh, this is ridiculous, I didn't even know her … "

Malfoy was silent, watching the progress of her tears as they made their way down her crumpled face. She wiped them messily with the sleeves of her jumper and blushed. He stepped forward hesitantly, a grimace spreading over his face. "I … Weasley, I really do have to go. I'll come back after work, yeah? We can talk about this."

Ginny nodded quickly and stepped forward to kiss him. His lips lingered on her cheek for a moment, and then he was gone, the crack of his disapparition leaving Ginny cold and alone.

* * *

"Oh, honestly!" Ginny exclaimed in dismay as Malfoy approached her. "That couldn't have been more than ten minutes!"

He winked, deliberately slowing his movements as he seated himself next to her once more. "That's all it takes with me."

Ginny rolled her eyes, "Did you at least make sure she was satisfied? It would be awfully rude to get yours and neglect to take care of her."

Malfoy chuckled in his rumbling voice, "Of course I took care of her; she was more ready for me that I was for her, and that's saying something. You know, for a virtuously chaste virgin, you are incredibly comfortable about sex."

"Just because I don't have sex doesn't mean I don't like talking about it. I know what goes where, and that's enough, isn't it?"

Leaning over the bar, he ordered another shot of firewhisky as he raised an eyebrow at her. "You're incredibly deprived, Weasley, I hope you know."

Ginny sighed into her ginger ale, "Don't remind me."

* * *

Pulling her knees up to her chin, Ginny shuddered as the last of her breath left her. The floor was cold, and her arse wasn't faring too well on it, but Ginny couldn't gather the strength to stand. Her stomach, bruised and beaten, heaved as she fought to sit straight. Her face ached from the blows. At least the fire was glowing brightly in the next room; the air was warming slowly.

A knock sounded at her door, and Ginny smiled slightly. Five years of absolute closeness, yet Draco refused to be 'vulgar.' Knocking on the door, he said, was more honorable than simply bursting into her home or appearing in her fireplace. Giving her the privacy she needed, he said, was more upstanding than forcing his company on her when unwanted. Jaret wasn't like that.

Just as her hand reached to open the door, Ginny froze. What would he _think_?

In the mirror, Ginny saw her black eye and the red bruises on her neck. She winced at the thought of what was underneath her clothes. Biting her lip, Ginny stepped to the door again. She had never turned Draco away before.

The knocking continued, three confident taps at a time, and then a pause. It grated her nerves, keeping this from him.

Finally, Ginny put her palm gently against the door and murmured, "Draco."

The knocking stopped. He didn't respond, and Ginny spoke a bit louder, "I'm not, er, feeling very good right now. I'm sorry, but I don't want you to see me like this." What a lie. He'd seen her chucking the contents of her stomach more times than she could count. But this was different.

A bit of movement sounded on the other side, and then his unwavering voice responded, "That's fine, if you're sure. Do you want some food? I brought Italian. I'll just leave it by the door."

Ginny smiled affectionately, voicing her thanks, and waited for him to leave. A pop came from the corridor a moment later, and Ginny unlocked the door to retrieve the warm, delicately-wrapped bag.

**Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2 His Love

**~ His Love**

"It's only been five months," Ginny frowned. "That's not enough time to get serious."

Malfoy tilted his head. "You're joking, right? It took you all of a week to fall in love with Scarhead, but you've been with this bloke for _five months_ and it's not yet serious?"

Ginny tossed the sandwich wrapper onto Malfoy's intricately designed footrest and bit eagerly into the delicacy. His skeptic gaze froze her heart. She shrugged, avoiding his eyes. "You'll meet him eventually. It's just not the right time yet. Since when do you want to meet my boyfriends anyway?"

He finished off his wine glass, setting it onto the tabletop casually. "Since you refuse to actually introduce us for over three months. Honestly, Weasley, either you're single and want to hide it, or you _really _don't want me to meet this man."

Ginny shifted in her seat, munching on her sandwich, as she mulled over her response. "I just want to make sure this is serious, before I go about making a dedication to him."

He reached to wipe her cheek with a napkin distastefully. "I'd say that five months of dating is a pretty heavy dedication, Weasley. At least explain to me why this particular case is so serious to you."

Shrugging silently, Ginny finished off her wine with large gulps. It was going to be a long night. She had to get out of there.

Taking their trash into the kitchen, Ginny quickly washed their dishes under Draco's careful watch. He'd long since stopped trying to convince her that his house elves could take care of such menial tasks; Ginny found them a bit relaxing. Once done, Ginny turned slowly and met his eyes. "I should be getting home. I think he's coming by early tomorrow morning, and I don't want to oversleep." She was surprised at how well the lie flew off her lips. Draco's eyes narrowed, but he nodded.

"I expect to be introduced to him by the new year, Weasley. You can't hold out on it for twelve months; it's just not done."

Ginny grinned quickly, ignoring the pain that overtook her cheeks at the movement, and walked stiffly to the dining hall. Thank Merlin for glamour charms. Draco's hands stilled hers as she pulled her thick cloak over herself. "I'm serious, Weasley. Your deliberate vagueness on this subject is beginning to worry me." He corrected her collar quickly and stepped back.

Ginny waved him off playfully, "Of course you'll meet him, silly. I can't hide him from you forever, even the most stealthy of minds couldn't keep a secret from you for long, and you and I both know how I lack in the intellectual department."

He scowled. "I never did and never will say anything of the sort, Ginny."

On a more serious note, she turned to him as she gathered her purse and work papers. "Draco, it's already been two weeks. You need to decide on a funeral ceremony soon, because stretching it won't make it go away. You – "

"Fine," he snapped. "Deal: If you leave me alone, I won't ask you about him for the next month."

Ginny smiled at him slyly, "That's all I ask." Just as she threw the floo into the flames, Ginny met his gaze. "I'm serious, though. Your mother deserves to be remembered."

* * *

The cold air stabbed her skin like knives, but she trudged on, pulling her cloak tighter about herself. Draco was strolling more elegantly beside her, his charcoal robes swishing behind him smoothly.

Tucking her hand into the crook of his arm, Ginny smiled at him gently, and a soft ache developed in her chest when her eyes met his. Neither found the need to look away.

The funeral procession had not taken long; not even fifteen had attended. Draco had not had a word to say, but Ginny found no problem with taking over, speaking the words that she knew were long since engraved in his mind.

His white hair fell into his eyes as he gazed at her, and Ginny thought for a second that she had never seen a thing more striking than a beautiful man in pain.

* * *

The Hog's Head was loud and raucous this time of the year, when the festivities were all scheduled to begin. The merriness of the atmosphere caused a nauseating churning in Ginny's stomach, and she glared at the other patrons of the pub darkly. "I just don't understand why we had to meet in this hole. I can practically feel the germs and diseases that burgeon here crawling all over me."

Luna blinked her large eyes slowly and smiled oddly, "Smell the air, Ginny. Can't you sense the happiness of these people?"

Ginny's eyes bulged out of their sockets. "No, Luna. I really can't."

Malfoy waved their conversation away dismissively and glared at Ginny half-heartedly. "It was close by, and if I remember correctly, you were the one who needed to utilize their services?"

Ginny blushed, remembering all too well the scarring experience she'd had in the pub's loo. She should have waited until they reached Madame Puddifoot's or something. Even if she would have come out smelling like candy in a meadow.

Scrunching her face as a whiff of sweat and beer reached her nose, Ginny shook her head. "No, look, I can't, I have to leave. This is torture."

Zabini chuckled slightly as they followed her out, and Ginny shivered as the cold air hit her, cutting through her skin. Malfoy pulled her back to cover her with a warming charm and rolled his eyes contemptuously. "A wise woman would have done that before she stepped into the snow."

Ginny pranced away, gathering a snowball in her hands. "A wise woman wouldn't be friends with you." Her snowball missed its mark. Malfoy's reflexes were, at the height of the Quidditch season, sharper than ever.

Blaise and Luna walked together beside them, hands clasped, and otherwise the streets were silent. Only Ginny's shrieking laughter broke the tranquil every so often as cold clumps of snow hit her back sharply. Everything froze, however, when Jaret emerged from the dark, his friendly face on for appearances.

Ginny's smile all but vanished, and she could feel everyone, especially Malfoy, watching her. She offered a small hello and stepped back toward her group of friends, waiting for him to speak.

He cleared his throat and looked at the others. "I'm Jaret Martin, a friend of Ginny's."

Ginny's eyes darted to Draco, who towered over the other man. _No_, she thought, _that you are not._ She cleared her throat regardless, murmuring, "Erm, yes, this is the Jaret I've told you about."

He turned wary eyes on her, almost vicious. "You've told them about me?"

Shaking her head quickly, she fought with her words, "Well, I've mentioned you and such. I just wanted to wait for the right time to, er, introduce you. What are you doing out here?"

Jaret challenged her, "I could ask the same of you."

Draco and Blaise exchanged dark glances, though Luna stood by obliviously. Stepping forward, Draco put a comforting arm around Ginny and nodded at the darker wizard. "Draco Malfoy, pleased to meet you."

Blaise and Luna stepped up to Ginny's other side, and the other Slytherin clearly intoned, "Blaise Zabini."

Ginny leaned slightly into Malfoy's side and waited for it to be over. Jaret smiled at the men and nodded quickly. "Right, well, I'll be on my way now. I suppose I'll see you later, Ginny?"

_Filthy, lying bastard. Like you really care what I'll say._

As soon as the man was gone, Draco let go of her and raised an eyebrow. "What was all that about?"

Ginny shied away from him and shivered despite the deliciously warm magic that flowed over her skin. Shrugging slightly, she muttered, "I wasn't expecting him here."

He nodded slowly and began to walk on beside her. Oblivious to his careful vigilance, Ginny scowled as she thought about what this would mean. Surely Jaret had seen Malfoy's arm around her. He would punish her, then. But she hadn't done anything wrong, she'd been polite and brief, and it wasn't her fault.

Someday soon, she would be strong enough to stop him. She would be determined, and she would quit shaking in her shoes when she heard him flooing in early in the morning. Why hadn't she done it yet?

* * *

"You don't understand, Malfoy," Ginny sighed patiently, setting her glass onto the lavishly decorated table. All around them people were buzzing with conversation, and numerous couples emerged onto the sparkling floor, dancing to the rhythm of the classical music. It was all very repulsive.

"Please explain to me, Weasley, why you would abstain for so long, then. Sex is meant to be had, not escaped from."

Ginny smiled, shaking her head, "It may have no meaning for you, Malfoy, and you may only do it for the pleasure, but I think that such an intimate act has to have a background. It isn't always meant for convenient office tables and dark corners of a nearby pub."

He raised a smooth eyebrow, "Don't judge me, Weasley. I'll have you know that the sex I had with those women was mind-blowing."

Ginny choked on her juice, her laughter tinkling through the cluttered air. "I don't doubt that, Malfoy; I've heard the rumours."

He grinned at her, intrigued despite the blank face he put on, "Are you interested?"

Shaking her head, Ginny smiled, "You'd break me, Malfoy. I'm not a masochist, and I know that loving you would only break me. I still wonder why women do that to themselves, just to have a meaningless night with you."

His expression was serious as he stood and extended a hand toward her. Ginny took it slowly, standing with a slight wince, and allowed him to lead her to the middle of the ballroom. As his hands descended upon her hips, he lowered his lips to her ear. "I haven't loved any of them. None of them have loved me."

Ginny blinked, pulling away from him, and met his gaze in puzzlement. "I know that. If you'd only given them a chance, maybe a week, then I'm sure they – "

"Why on earth would I do that? What I'm getting at, Weasley, is that I haven't broken anyone. With them, there was nothing to break."

Swallowing, Ginny felt a cry develop deep in her throat as his hands on her waist tightened. Jaret sure did do the job right. Raising her eyes slowly, Ginny met his as the floor quieted. Couples were exiting the ballroom casually for a breath of air before the dessert was served.

Taking a deep breath, Ginny rolled her eyes, pushing herself away from him slightly. "And what _I'm_ trying to get at, Malfoy, is that if you'd only give them a chance, love might develop. That woman you caught a few minutes ago, what was that – your third one tonight? You have no scruples."

Malfoy smirked, playing with her hair lightly. "Dearest Weasley, she was the sixth, and, you should know, she wasn't the last."

"Yes, yes, I have faith in you. Then tell me, Malfoy: what's the point? Why sleep with woman after woman every night, if it all means nothing to you?"

His jaw set, and he looked away. Ginny knew he wouldn't answer. Irritated that he was such a child, Ginny pinched his arm. "Come on, you baby. I know that there's a reason. Otherwise you wouldn't be doing it, would you? Being noble and all that."

Malfoy opened his mouth to retort, but caught her eyes and stopped. He shook his head slightly and looked away again. The second song ended, and he walked her off the floor back to the table. Just before he sauntered off to chat with a few colleagues, he muttered, almost inaudibly, "Ridiculously, love already broke me."

* * *

"Oh!" Ginny exclaimed as some of her water spilled onto Malfoy's lush carpet. She grabbed a towel quickly, drying the spot within seconds, and stood with obvious rush. Her apologetic eyes met his over the table, wide and frightened.

He turned to her in amusement and shrugged, "It's water, Weasley."

Ginny blushed suddenly, cursing herself for how weak she'd become, and nodded, tossing the towel into the sink. Just as she turned to sit, Malfoy grasped her wrist, and she cried out in pain.

His eyes widened in alarm, and he let go, as though burned, while Ginny bit her lip in agony. The night previous had been particularly cruel. Scurrying back from him, Ginny didn't notice his startled eyes as they followed her out of the room.

The two other guests occupying the table hadn't seemed to realize anything was amiss, and Draco severely wanted to bash his foot into their skulls. Returning to his chair, he took a sip of his firewhisky and murmured, "I wonder where she went."

Luna blinked in her offhanded way and smiled at him. "She's probably just embarrassed. Her mum used to hound her over making a mess at the Burrow. Old habits die hard."

Zabini caught Malfoy's eye seriously and shook his head. "Go find her, mate."

At those words, Draco practically sprinted from the room, using his wand to quickly track her. The bathroom was silent when he came in, and Ginny had just barely managed to hide the wand as she swiveled in place.

Advancing on her slowly, he growled, "What the hell is he doing to you, Ginny? What the fuck has he done?"

She shook her head, "N-Nothing. Whom are you talking about?"

His eyes narrowed into charcoal slits, and he bared his teeth. "I'm sick of the lies, Weasley. Was this the real reason you so direly hid him from me? Has he been hurting you for _this_ long?"

"I don't understand what you mean," Ginny shook her head, turning back to the mirror quickly.

Draco closed the distance between them. "I saw you that evening, Ginny, and you were cowering before him. Why the hell haven't you left him yet?"

Sobbing now, Ginny collapsed onto the sink, dropping her wand in the process. As he leaned down to get it, Malfoy caught a bitter, strong smell of blood. Jerking up without so much as an explanation, he ripped her shirt off and stared at the scars.

Ginny heard the buttons scattering over the floor and covered herself quickly with her arms, her purple and green arms. Malfoy's gaze never lingered, traveling over every plane of her skin that was exposed. "Holy, fucking hell, Weasley. Bloody, fucking hell."

Ginny's skin, if possible, turned even darker as her blush spread, and Draco shook his head wordlessly as he slid a gentle hand over her bruised arm, pulling her to him slowly. Lowering her head onto his smooth chest, Ginny spilled hot tears onto his silky new oxford and wrapped cold hands around his back as his own fisted in her hair.

* * *

"Look, it's not that he doesn't deserve a good and proper beating, Zabini, but I think there's a way to go around this without committing murder and being placed in Azkaban."

Ginny frowned, pulling the wine glass out of Draco's hand, and took a sip of it as she snuggled further under the warm coverlet. Turning worried eyes on him, she took another sip and her frown worsened. He turned to her, amused, and watched as she set the glass down away from him.

Luna nodded in agreement with his words. "Violence, especially in light of what has happened, is not the answer here. If there's a way to put him behind bars without ever having to deal with him personally, it would be the best way to heal."

Blaise shrugged, "I just thought you might like to deal with the bastard yourself. If you did murder him, I'm sure you could pay off the Wizengamot anyway."

Ron cleared his throat. "That's all well and good, but we need to figure out the next course of action, here."

Hermione sighed quietly and glanced out of the small lounge window. The Burrow was toasty and warm despite the snow falling all around it. At that moment, Molly rushed into the room, arms full of papers and fabrics, and Draco, amused, stood to help her.

Ron scowled as he watched the interaction, but Molly smiled at the blond affectionately and patted his cheek as he took the products into the kitchen. She then scrambled to the divan, putting a gentle hand on Ginny's forehead, and sighed, "It will all be fine soon, dear. Remus and Arthur have already brought him down to the Ministry. Things are going to be fine."

Nodding slightly, Ginny glanced at the doorway, waiting for Draco's tall form to appear. When it didn't, she quickly excused herself and stumbled up to her room. As she closed the door, she heard the unmistakable crash of glass on tile and Draco's frustrated snarl.


	3. Chapter 3 His Smile

**~ His Smile**

Ginny ignored his insolent glare on her back as she set her cup down. "I don't care, Malfoy. You aren't going to be babysitting me, and that's that."

"Weasley," his voice was menacing and dangerous, but Ginny shook her head again, standing from the table.

"I refuse! I've told you! I hate being dependent, and this is just the worst way to be so!"

Malfoy stood, catching her elbow, and pulled her back to him. "He's escaped, Weasley. You don't know what those lunatics get into their heads, and you can't ever be too safe. Just let me be around you when you go out – you don't have to let me live with you."

Ginny shook her head. "It's not that, Malfoy, it's really not. I can handle Jaret myself."

"You don't have to prove anybody anything. It's not even been a week," he growled, though Ginny knew well enough that he was pleading. She extricated herself from his hold, glaring at him, and sashayed out of the café indignantly.

* * *

It was sudden, and Ginny hadn't expected for it to happen, but suddenly tears were flowing down her face and Jaret's ephemeral face was in front of her eyes, yelling. Her cry wasn't so loud as to attract much attention, but Draco had seen.

She pushed her hand over her mouth as she watched him. His jaw set, and he stared at the floor, challenging it with the force of his gaze. He avoided her eyes for the next few minutes, but Ginny knew there were words that he needed to let out.

Trembling, Ginny put her head down onto the table as the music raged on around them, adolescent couples dancing provocatively on the floor. Quidditch parties weren't usually this loud and populous, but Ginny's meager occupation did not supply many outings for her to choose from.

The man who had just approached her for a dance shot her a strange look, and Draco's glare had sent him scampering to his friends once more. How could an innocent teenager and a cold-blooded bastard look so ialike/i?

Raising her head, Ginny put a hand apologetically in Draco's warm one and they coolly left the containment.

* * *

"He cares about you, Ginny," Molly murmured as she sent another bruise healing with her wand. There were no scabs anymore, just blotches of yellow stains underneath Ginny's vibrant freckles.

The front door slammed in the distance, and Ginny imagined Draco storming into the Ministry and throttling Jaret himself. The thought sent an unpleasant fear through her, but she knew he was too rational to do that. The look in his eyes when he'd seen her a moment ago, however, was difficult to shake.

Despite the frown on her face, Ginny shrugged. "As he should; I've cared for him for five years, and it's about time he returned the favor."

Molly sent her an amused glance and flicked her wand again.

* * *

It was noon when she awoke. The curtains were drawn, and the door was closed, but she could feel the day reaching its peak outside of the house. The past three days had been lazy and relaxed, and she had been content to stay in bed as her skin healed.

Shifting under the toasty covers, Ginny was startled to find that the only fabric covering her body was a large shirt, smelling quite pleasantly of Draco. Wondering why she had been changed into it, Ginny let her feet patter down the endless stairs as she made her way to the kitchen.

House elves scuttled about, placing appetizing dishes onto the dining table as Malfoy stood languidly to the side, cutting a loaf of bread. Ginny approached him slowly, eyes wide. "Why are there house elves in my mother's kitchen?"

He turned halfway to meet her eyes and then continued cutting. "What your mother doesn't know won't hurt her, Weasley."

Blinking at his back, Ginny glanced at the clock. The Burrow was empty, it told her, save for her; the rest of the family was out. Approaching him slowly, Ginny glanced at the table. "Why aren't you at work?"

The even, rhythmic cutting continued, and it wasn't until he'd piled the slices of bread onto a plate that he spoke. "To be so punctual as to never skip a day of work, one has to have incentive. Puddlemere United doesn't pay me nearly enough."

Standing by the sink, Ginny watched his practiced movements. "Because you even need the money?"

He smirked, placing an empty plate before her seat, and stood back to study the table. The house elves were gone now, presumably back at the Manor, and Ginny stared at the table in puzzlement. "You haven't answered my question."

Malfoy shrank the table wandlessly and turned. "No, I don't need the money, but I like having it."

Ginny groaned, frustrated, and pushed past him to the table, snapping up a slice of cheese. Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. "You're going to be the death of me."

"But, oh, what a satisfying death," he smirked, sitting at the opposite end of the table and digging into his meal promptly. Ginny sat munching on her eggs for a while and studied her breakfast companion silently. He pretended not to notice, and she pretended she didn't know. It was adolescence all over again.

If she had to remember when she'd fallen in love with him, she couldn't say. She'd always known how deep she was in, all five years that she'd suffered from, and reveled in, their acquaintance. She was always stuck, though, because even if he did develop an interest in her, ever, she knew he would move on as quickly as he came. It was better to preserve their lovely friendship and push her feelings to the corners of her mind.

As she moved the dishes into the sink, she felt his hard fingers on her skin, and jumped visibly at his touch. He stepped away in apology, and Ginny turned, one hand on her chest, as she tried to slow her heartbeat. She wasn't scared; she was i_hopeful_./i

"You can breathe, Weasley. I'm merely checking your scars."

Shaking her head in frustration, Ginny changed the subject. "How much longer are you planning on following me around and inhabiting my living space?"

He shrugged. "I took a couple of days off. I told you, Weasley, he's on the loose, and you never know what might happen. Your family would flay me if anything happened to you. I'm going to be around you for the next forty-eight hours, and you might as well accept that."

Ginny smiled. "My family. Would you, honestly, really be here if my _family_ wasn't such a threat to your safety?"

Malfoy sobered and shook his head. "Weasley, you're not getting rid of me. Go get dressed properly."

Snapping her fingers, Ginny nodded. "Don't think I won't figure out how and why I was changed into your shirt. Do you have your robes ready for tonight?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Tonight?"

Ginny stomped her foot. "Merlin, Malfoy, the party! My brother's birthday party!"

He stepped away, brushing a hand through his hair. "Right, of course. What was his name, Chauncey? Calvin? Chad?"

"Charlie, you dolt!"

"My apologies to your brother. His birthday was two weeks ago anyway, I don't understand what the rage is about having it on New Year's Eve."

Shaking her head, Ginny cursed under her breath as she stormed back to her room, calling, "Be ready at five!" as she slammed her door closed.

What seemed like minutes later, Malfoy was pounding on the door. "Weasley, are you alive? We have to leave in ten minutes."

Gasping, Ginny threw her dress on, but it wouldn't clasp properly. Her wand was of no help, because she couldn't direct it at her back, and the sparks were flying in all different directions and zipping random curtain tails and bedspreads. Desperate, Ginny walked out into her lounge and whined, "Malfoy, I need help."

He snorted. "I could have told you that years ago. What, did you forget to look at the clock?"

Ginny stomped her foot and waited for him to zip the back. His cool hands swiftly closed the clasps and smoothed the dress down. Ginny turned to look at him then. He was dressed impeccably in his fine robes, clean and perfect as always. Her breath stuck in her throat, and she berated herself for her weakness.

"You clean up just fine," Ginny observed.

He nodded haughtily. "Thank you. I don't really try."

Ginny shook her head. "No, really. I'm sure you'll have no problem picking up two or three bawds just in the first few minutes of being there."

His eyes widened. "I have no intention of doing that. It's your brother's birthday, Weasley, the only women there will be either married or infantile."

"Neither of those has stopped you before."

He nodded, allowing her the point, and smirked. "I'll try to restrain myself for your benefit, then."

Ginny sighed, "I'm going to go fix my hair and face, then. I'll be out in five."

He caught her wrist, and she stumbled back into his chest. "You look just fine, Weasley. Were you sleeping just now?"

Ginny blushed slightly, "A bit."

He closed his eyes tightly. "Don't do anything. You look perfect as you are. We might be late if you keep at it."

Ginny nodded, allowing him to drape a warm cloak over her shoulders, and they disapparated.

* * *

"Why are you still in your coat, Weasley? It's blistering in here."

Ginny tugged it closer around herself defensively. "I cast a cooling charm on myself. My dress is too revealing, anyway, and I just ate an entire meal. I'm sure to have some pudgy – "

Malfoy frowned at her. "Pudgy? You're not pudgy, Weasley. Have you seen Granger? That's pudgy."

Ginny laughed, thwacking his arm, and stood. "She's pregnant, you git! It doesn't matter anyway, because I'm sure there are still some scars on me that would frighten the lot." Ginny glanced around. Groups of Weasleys were milling about, and the decorations all over the Burrow glowed brightly in the dark. Scented candles gave off the fumes of peppermint candies, and Ginny closed her eyes, breathing the atmosphere into her heart.

No one approached them, everyone busy with conversation or other entertainment, the air was relaxed and merry. Fleur and Bill were dancing sensuously by the fireplace, and Ginny could make out a soft holiday tune from the Wizarding Wireless.

Ginny looked for something to do, but Molly had ushered her out of the kitchen, no doubt still on pins and needles that Ginny might spontaneously collapse from an everyday chore. Laughing at the playfully dirty looks Harry and Ron threw her, Ginny walked back to where Draco was sitting, watching her.

She extended a hand to him, "Dance with me?"

Surprised, he took it, allowing her small form to lead him to the center of the lounge. With a brief smile and a wave to her brother and his wife, Ginny turned to Malfoy, allowing him to initiate the dance. He put a hand slowly on the small of her back, and Ginny giggled out of nervousness that she hadn't known was there.

Wrapping two hands around his neck with effort, she felt him pull her up onto his toes, moving them around the floor on his feet only, to alleviate her tenuous arms.

It was, in nicer terms, surprising, to feel Draco's hands travel briefly over her midsection. She glanced up at him warily, and he seemed to ponder something before saying, "As I said before, I feel nothing pudgy. You've got to be the smallest human being I've ever met."

Crashing her hands on her hips, Ginny exclaimed, "This isn't pudgy?"

He slid his long fingers to the downy skin and smirked. "Not by my standards."

Blushing, Ginny looked up at him. His voice was unusually low when he spoke. "Your brother had an ingenious thought a couple of days ago, when you were still at my place."

Ginny smiled. "Wonders will never cease."

Malfoy's lips quirked, but he continued, "It was a plan, really, that he thought would show us …"

Ginny tilted her head. "Show us what?"

He seemed to fight with himself, and then changed the subject, "I've been thinking about what you'd asked me earlier, whether or not I would even be here with you if I wasn't fearful for my –"

Ginny shook her head, dreadfully ashamed. "I'm so sorry I said that, I really didn't mean it … I was just …"

His eyes softened, but he went on. "And I think, honestly, that even if you had no siblings, and no parents to worry about you, that I would be here, because I'm selfish. I don't deny it, and I'm not apologizing for it. I'm selfish, and you've been a part of my life for much too long. Without you, I would be shagging everything in sight, and without me, you'd be picking all the wrong men."

Ginny smiled at him, nodding. Then, something in his demeanor changed, and his lips twisted. "Your brother's executed his plot."

Ginny glanced up at him questioningly, and a bright glow above their heads caught her attention. Ginny gasped, "But Christmas was six days ago!"

He grimaced then, almost imperceptibly, but Ginny saw. She pinched his neck lightly, murmuring, "Hey."

Draco moved his eyes to her slowly, and she frowned. "I don't understand."

"Love broke me when you and I met. I've tried fighting it every which way; hell, I've shagged more than a fourth of the world's population, but nothing changed. Between men and women there is no friendship possible. There is passion, enmity, worship, love, but no friendship. And being bloody honest, I don't think I have ever been your friend," he argued with himself more than with her, Ginny noted, and his eye were hard, his guard was up.

"No more hurting then, no more pretending. No more meaningless shagging or physical abuse. Not this time. This time it will be different, and you're going to oblige if I have to make you." The chime of a bell somewhere in the house signaled the first few seconds of the new year. With a sudden burst of strength, Ginny jumped up to the mistletoe, tossing it roughly to the floor, and attached herself firmly to Draco's lips.

**Note: Happy Holiday Season!**

"Between men and women there is no friendship possible. There is passion, enmity, worship, love, but no friendship." ~Oscar Wilde


End file.
